Month: July 2015

AusDpr has just put out a new magazine, full of comics and stories, many of which involve the Diaper Dimension… Other than the ones I wrote, funnily enough. That’s right, there are stories from me in there, too!

One is an expanded version of Brat in the Hat. I went back and did some editing to the story, cleaning up and changing a few things, as well as adding a brand new epilogue. In addition to that, AusDpr has done 33 illustrations to go with the story!

My other story, Welcome to the Dollhouse, involves something you may have noticed mentioned in several of my other stories and captions, and as such, is a sequel of sorts to several of my stories, including The Hunt/The Affair, Scavengers, Christmas Shopping, and, in fact, Brat in the Hat itself. This is meant more as a prequel to the main Dollhouse story, whenever I get around to writing that, but it is the first glimpse inside, available exclusively here! And, to give you a taste, I’ll have the first couple pages below…

Along with my stuff, there are three Diaper Dimension stories by AusDpr, as well as five comics by him, JamJar Monster, and Pink Diapers, totaling over 400 pages of content! If you want more information, you can click the image above to go to AusDpr’s page on the magazine, or go here to buy it from Lulu. Thanks for your support, and I’ll try to have more captions up soon!

Welcome to the Dollhouse

“What was that, Ms. Hendrickson?”

“Nothing, ma’am,” Jordan grumbled from the back seat of the car, fidgeting restlessly, diaper crinkling loudly beneath the much too short for her comfort skirt of the pink sailor dress she’d been put in that morning when she’d arrived at the woman’s house.

“Are you sure? That sounded like a bad word to me. That or just general fussing. We talked about that, didn’t we? I don’t like either one, almost as much as I dislike lying.”

It took all Jordan had not to snap out that she’d said it was nothing, but her first couple weeks of work had shown her how bad an idea that was. “I was moving around a little. You probably just heard my diaper.”

“Do you need to go potty?” Mrs. Patterson asked. The stop light in front of them changed to red, giving the woman the chance to turn around in her seat and stare at the squirming girl there. “I told you to go before we left so I could get you changed. We’re not stopping just for that.”

“No, I don’t need to go potty!” Jordan rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby!”

“Are you getting an attitude, young lady? Do you really want the first glimpse your new little schoolmates get of you to be you with your diaper around your ankles getting your bottom warmed? We’re already late because you thought you could fight me over your outfit.”

Jordan looked down, knowing full well that Mrs. Patterson would carry through on her threat from the still slightly sore backside she had under her diaper. As she was staring at the floorboards, she saw the woman’s hand reach out, pushing its way under her skirt before she could stop it.

“I guess you really don’t need to go potty, do you? Since you already went? There’s no need to be cranky, you know I’ll change you when we get there.” Jordan’s cheeks burned bright red as she glanced over to the side, seeing a little girl in the car next to Mrs. Patterson’s staring over at the spectacle. Without thinking, she pushed Mrs. Patterson’s hand away. The woman gave her a stern look, then shrugged. “A spanking it is, then,” she stated, before turning back around to see the light turn green, leaving Jordan whimpering and squirming in her seat. “I didn’t pack my hairbrush, but I have a feeling they’ll have a paddle I can borrow. And you might as well start getting used to it – if you continue acting the way you have, I have no doubt you’ll be growing quite familiar with it over the course of your… training.”

“This isn’t fair!” Jordan whined. “You can’t do this to me! I am an adult, you can’t..!” Mrs. Patterson turned around quickly, silencing Jordan with the pacifier clipped to the front of her dress. Normally, that would have worked, as Jordan knew the consequences for taking out a pacifier when a “grown-up” put it in, but she was already getting a spanking, and in a bad mood. “You can’t treat me like a toddler! You can’t send me off to some…” She stopped, unsure, really, of just what this place she was going to was – all she knew was that she didn’t want to go there.

To her surprise, the car pulled over to the side of the road, stopped. Mrs. Patterson reached into her purse, grabbed something, then got out, walking around the car to the back and opening Jordan’s door. When she saw the expression on the woman’s face, Jordan immediately regretted not having controlled herself a little better, but a quick, squeaked, “I’m sorry!” wasn’t good enough, and she was yanked out of the car, then turned around and pushed up against it.

“What are you doing?” she asked desperately as she felt her dress being lifted, then her tights and diaper pulled down, exposing her bare bottom. “No, stop!” she whimpered, bracing herself for the spanking she was sure was coming. Instead, she got an even bigger surprise as she felt Mrs. Patterson’s finger push something deep into her bottom. Her eyes went wide and she squirmed at the sensation, feeling whatever it was being pulled deeper inside by her own muscles. “What did you do?!” Mrs. Patterson didn’t answer, but pushed in another, and then a third, before pulling Jordan’s diaper back up and turning the girl around.

Jordan fidgeted, feeling confused and violated, while Mrs. Patterson opened the passenger’s side door, taking a baby wipe from her purse and wiping her finger off. “Do you think I’m stupid, little girl?” she asked, replacing the pacifier in Jordan’s mouth before she could say anything. “No, don’t answer – I know you do. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I told you when you started working for me that I expected you to use your diapers, and nothing else. Did you really think you were so sneaky that nobody noticed you running off to the bathroom? Or that you somehow never messed your diaper?”

Jordan bit into her pacifier uncertainly, having a sudden, very bad, idea of what the woman had done to her now.

“They’re not going to put up with your bratty ways here,” the woman told her. “Right now, I’m having them take it easy on you, but they assure me I can change that at any time. Or you can, by continuing to act the way you have been at work.”

Jordan started to remove her pacifier, to try to defend herself, only for the woman to shove it back in. “You know better,” she said sternly. “I’ll tell you what, little girl. We’re only a few minutes away now. I’ve arranged a tour for you when we get there – if you can keep your diaper clean until we finish with that, we’ll call this whole thing off. We’ll go back to the office, and I’ll give you a real shot at the position you applied for. I’ll even think about forgiving you all that money you cost me paying for your shoplifting.”

That did sound good, but Jordan was hesitant. She had no doubt that Mrs. Patterson wouldn’t be doing this if she honestly thought Jordan had a chance at doing it, and she wanted no part of what was going to happen if she failed. She didn’t take her pacifier out, but she shook her head, crossing her arms.

“Did you think you had a choice? This isn’t a game, sweetie. If you want to give up and fill your diaper right here, that’s fine with me, but that means you’ll be giving up your only chance of avoiding all this, and of ever working for me without a diaper. Now, are you going to go potty now, or shall we get going? The longer you play around here, the harder it’s going to be for you.”

“Fine,” Jordan sighed, ducking back into the car. If she really didn’t have a choice, she supposed it was better to at least try, even if it meant playing into this woman’s strange, sick game. She didn’t want to have to stand out there by the side of the road any longer, anyway, she told herself.

She reached up to start to put her seatbelt back on, but, no matter how quickly she moved, it seemed Mrs. Patterson was always quicker, the woman’s hand blocking her own and pulling the belt down, clicking it into place with a condescending, “Good girl.”